


Aaravos x reader (probably will change soon)

by aTOzFANTAZY



Category: The Dragon Prince
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Multi, Other, Rayllum, The dragon prince - Freeform, aaravos x reader - Freeform, sleep who?, tdp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aTOzFANTAZY/pseuds/aTOzFANTAZY
Summary: A moonshadow elf, powerful mage and an assassin, what could go wrong? Well, Aaravos finds her interesting, she made sure of it, a taunting female and an even more dangerous assassin.What. Could. Go. Wrong?Famous last words, Aaravos, famous last words.
Relationships: Aaravos x Reader, Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince), Rayllum - Relationship, Runaan x Ethari
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. The Queen of Shadows

When the girl passed through him…

He didn’t have the words for it. He felt power tugging for him, a well of power, deep and ancient, yet young. Without a second of thought he ran after it. 

He followed the beckoning and found a female, a copy of the other one, yet different. 

The female turned to him and smirked, weapons drawn. 

“There you are,” she grinned, it was the kind that sent shivers down the spines of her enemies, Aaravos gathered. 

She wasn’t supposed to see him. She cocked her head at him. “Right, I don’t see you,” she said sarcastically, “I seriously don’t see you. Is- is that? A ghost?!” She shrieked dramatically. 

Aaravos furrowed his brows at the female that was waving around her weapons while gesturing with her arms. “I definitely don’t see anyone here,” she called. 

“Oh- don‘t look at me like I’m crazy,” she said seriously, hand braced on her hip and leaning on the weapon, “Of course I can see you, you idiot, it’s like you’re a glowing toad in a dark room, you’re not exactly subtle,” 

“Who are you?” Araavos asked, mostly himself. 

“Who am I?” The female asked and gestured with her hands, she took the blade from her hip and started picking her nails. “Well, that is a philosophical question, a tricky one at that,” she mumbled, “Who am I,” she smirked at him, “Well, I am the Queen of Shadows,” she bowed by the waist, and spread her arms flourishly. There was a pause and moonlight spread into the room. 

The female didn’t waste a second as she passed by him, slowly and gracefully, he whirled to follow her movements, she kept circling him and Aaravos followed her. She smirked as she stopped their dance abruptly. 

“Lumis, Luna, Maxima,” she said coldly and the room lit up and darkened completely. Leaving only rays of moonlight. 

A circle, more like a star lit up and glowed. She was drawing runes. How did he not notice?!

Her gaze swept over him stopping at the rune on his chest. 

The light of the giant rune illuminated her features, young, female and a Moonshadow elf.

“Startouch elf,” she smirked. She was meters away from him, yet her presence was strangling. The hallway before the throne room was filled with her presence. 

Her slow steps echoed the empty room. She stopped mere centimeters before him, her sharp gaze travelling his form, she swept a delicate hand across his chest, drawing his heed to his solid form. His eyes widened and he snapped his gaze towards the female, her smirk enticing. 

Her eyes flared in colour, dark and light, good and bad at the same time. 

She was close to his solid body, he could feel warmth blooming through him. 

“Viren doesn’t even know who holds the power, does he?” She grinned, Aaravos saw the canines, sharp and deadly, he smirked back, showing his own. Her eyes were carefully neutral as she said, “Does he know who holds the true power, Aaravos?” His name fell from her lips as she nonchalantly swept away from him and reached for her, question on his lips as the light darkened and disappeared completely, his own body becoming see-through and his touchable body once again becoming untouchable. “Find the Queen of Shadows, Aaravos, find me when you are done,” she beckoned. She turned her back to him and disappeared in the moonlight and shadows. 

Aaravos was ready, ready for his body, even if it were just to find the Queen of Shadows. 

He looked at the runes one more time, rendering them to his memory, to find them later. 

There was an item where she disappeared. Small pendant, a necklace. He opened the amulet and found a small paper inside. 

A name, your name.


	2. The Musician, the Music and the Dancer

Aaravos was driven by will to find you. To find the female lurking in the shadows of his mind, nagging for attention, grinning, smirking, smiling and talking. Repeating words, making him doubt. He tried every tracking spell, every arcanum. But nothing appeared. Like you dropped from the face of the world. He was taunted by smiles and smirks, created by his own mind. 

The frustration was weaving through his veins, careful not to let it affect his plans. Yet, in that singular plan a new variable appeared. 

_ Find the Queen of Shadows, find me when you are done. _

The female, the Moonshadow elf, a mage, an assassin and a queen. But not a queen of people, of Shadows. Moonshadow elves. Tricky and cunning. Yet… 

The female posed a challenge —  _ find me —  _ spells, incantations, trackers. Nothing showed, irritation rippled through him. Days after he broke free of his cacoon, after he regained his strength, he set out to find her. Using spells, incantations and he used every arcanum he could. Yet still nothing. Days passed, weeks, and then months, no sign of the mysterious female, whose name passed through his mind more often than he would care to admit. He sought her power, just like her, it vanished. 

His usual steady patience was wearing thin. Even Viren’s girl had tried to help him find her, although he didn’t much care for her help, she couldn’t help much. 

He was ready for her, yet she didn’t show. He would hear a whisper in the shadows, small smile in the moon‘s reflection on steady water. 

Aaravos was nothing if not efficient. He had accommodated the plan to the new variable. She was with the prince. He would presume she continued with them. When he found them, there was no trace of the female. 

Everything he needed to do was done, yet that female struck a nerve when she challenged.  _ Find me when you are done —  _ he was done, and ready to find her. He rid himself of Viren and Claudia. 

“You truly are finished,” an offhand comment meant to startle him, but he was ready this time. 

“I am, pet,” he purred and turned to greet the assassin. 

You were casually leaning on a branch. Twirling your weapons as your hair rose with the wind and shone in the moonlight. 

“Were you looking for me, little assassin?” 

Aaravos cocked his head. 

“I could ask the same,” the female grinned. 

“I am not opposed to a challenge,” he smirked. 

“Challenge?” You rose your brows, as if you hadn’t known  _ what  _ exactly you said. An order,—  _ find me —,  _ a request, a challenge. 

“A challenge of power,” 

“Whose?” You smiled and with all the grace and casualness a Moonshadow elf has, you landed before him. 

He towered over you, your defiant smirk and mischievous glint in your eye still challenging. 

“Mine, yours… doesn’t matter, does it, little assassin?” 

He smoothly moved a bit closer, fingers sliding beneath your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. Your eyes shifted slightly, twinkling silver in your eyes making your eyes shine, made that spying gaze all the more powerful. 

He felt a hand travelling up his other arm. A hand came to rest where his jaw met his throat. 

“No, it truly does not,” 

One might think this was a lover’s embrace, a few would know better. 

“And I suppose you wanted me to find you,” a statement, not a question. 

“I reckon I wanted an appropriate partner for a dance,” she slid out of his arms, smoothly. Her fingers travelling from the bob of his throat to his chin and slightly flicking it. 

“It has been a long time since someone danced with me,” A statement of power. 

“Time is to make it so much more enjoyable.” A declaration of her own strength. 

“Are you certain you can keep pace?” 

“It is not about the one that keeps pace, it is about the one willing to slow down,” 

His eyebrows tightened just one bit, one blink was an indication of his surprise. 

“A long time has passed since someone needed to slow down for me to dance,” 

“And yet, someone was willing to slow down to dance with you, even if it was a long time ago,” 

“Everybody must learn to dance,” Aaravos added, he was taking steps towards her. 

“You speak true, even so, the dance changes with the music,” she took one step forward. “And the music changes with the musician,” 

The musician controls the music and the music dictates dance. 

“Are you the musician or the dancer?” 

Question of power, do you control or do you let yourself follow the music and yet still write your steps. 

“I am what is required of me, the dancer, the musician or the music. What are you?” 

“The outcome is defined by who needs me to dance, play or control,” she smiled at him. 

“Do you want to dance?” 

“To whom would I be listening to? The music or the musician, the one that dictates or the one that controls?” 

He didn’t deign an answer, it was already there. 

“Who taught you to dance, little assassin?” His lips pulled into an enticing smirk. 

Her own lips quirked upwards. “Who taught you to play the music?” 

He held his head high, arms clasped behind his back, his legs a bit wide, a casual yet powerful stance. 

Her own was as dominant as his. Shoulders pulled back, slightly tilted head to look up to him, yet still held high. 

All of this was a dance.

An untold dance. One they need to learn. 

  
  
  



	3. Nuisance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit short... sorry

“So, where are we travelling?” You asked. 

You made it your mission to find out what was Aaravos exactly doing. He was a pretty, little (well, he’s 6’9 so…), purple, sparkly puzzle you were determined to solve. There’s not any particular reason to why you’d want to solve the sparkly puzzle (we’re gonna call him that in case he can read minds, so, shhh), you just like to be put in dangerous situations you couldn’t possibly get out alive of. Well, and you liked sparkly puzzles and stars… so, he was a dealbreaker for you. Moving on. 

“ _ We?”  _ He asked with his eyebrows up. 

“Well, you. I’m just tagging along,” you shrugged and picked up a haphazard branch and waved around with it. 

Aaravos pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. And you felt extreme satisfaction knowing you did that. You made an immortal being exasperated and impatient. Nothing could make you prouder, you lived for being a general nuisance. 

You smelled berries. And those berries are delicious. You skipped away from the exasperated sparkly puzzle and picked a few moonberries while humming a song. You heard someone behind you and drew your blades. Without thinking you put them on his throat. 

“ _ Oh,” _ you sighed, “Hi.” 

“ _ Oh,  _ is right,” 

You withdrew your blades. “So, we’re going north?”

Purple puzzle looked back at you, his expression puzzled. “How did you know that?” 

“I am a queen and an assassin, I have my ways,” you said mysteriously. He didn’t seem pleased with it. “What’s in the north?” 

Aaravos smirked. You knew he wasn’t going to tell you. You  _ were  _ a child, but you weren’t  _ stupid,  _ you just liked being troubling for people who are on high pedestals and need to be lowered down a bit. Sure, you knew he was powerful and all, you just liked to push ‘till the end of the line. And right now, you hear Runaan’s voice telling you in that stern tone:  _ don’t underestimate your enemies.  _

You weren’t underestimating your enemies per say — although Aaravos wasn’t your enemy — you just liked to annoy them, likely to the point they leave you alone and/or are too tired to deal with you. 

You liked his company, as you said, no one really wanted to dance with you because you were either going too fast or you were not understandable. You missed those discussions, you long since outgrew Runaan and Ethari, and many of the other elves in any kind of knowledge. You missed having someone at your own mental level. Someone  _ even  _ smarter. You would take that any day other than having your ever-growing brain rot in this boring stagnant state. You mind hasn’t been expanding for a long time and you were bored of it. So extremely —

“I  _ asked  _ you a question,” Aaravos snapped you out of your self-reflecting. 

You hummed and directed your attention to the sparkly puzzle. 

“I  _ asked _ , why did you call yourself a Queen of Shadows?” 

“Oh,  _ that _ ,” you smiled mischievously, “I suppose that’s for you to find out, Sparkles.” 

He smirked. You knew not to trust him, as you said, you weren’t an idiot. Although it made you wonder, how many people were to trust him too soon. 

  
  


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She was so haphazardly childish and cultivated at the same time. When he thought he would get even an ounce out of her, she proved him wrong. It irked him to no end that you weren’t as susceptible as others were. Viren didn’t trust him right away, but he did eventually, not even that long time passed. Yet she was… from what he can tell she isn’t much older than the younger elf, yet she is smarter and had more experience. He knew nothing of her, she was carefree the whole time. Standing beside someone as powerful as Aaravos and having no worries. She was a child and an adult at the same time. She was skipping about one second and putting swords on his throat the other. 

They were walking the Ancient Oakwald. The oldest forest in the world. Aaravos admired its beauty. A long time has passed since he was able to see it. Viren was persistent they keep moving at all times. Aaravos resents him. The night is falling. Stars peeked out of their hiding. 

Aaravos and she entered a small clearing. From what Aaravos can tell it’s safe. She simply collapsed on a nearby branch and crossed her arms over her chest. Aaravos rolled his eyes and pulled out a cot for himself. 


	4. A travelling companion of a young adult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find a travelling companion.

It was noon. 

Aaravos left her on that tree branch. He didn’t bother waking her up at the time he woke up. She is going to find him soon. He counted on it. She always had success in finding him, even when he couldn’t find her. 

He wondered how she did it. How  _ exactly _ did she find him? He had countless wards protecting him. Countless spells hiding him from view on maps or in magic, anyways...

He could teleport, but to cross such a distance to North would drain him completely. And he would rather walk a few hundred miles than lie in bed to restore his well of magic for a few weeks. He could be able to teleport when it was Starfall without draining himself completely, but it would be faster to walk than wait for months —he  _ could  _ use Dark Magic… he couldn’t, no one in the North would offer him blood. In addition to that, he needed the Starfall to completely heal himself. Breaking free of the curse placed upon him was a hurtful experience. Even now, months after he escaped, he could still feel the mirror pulling him back, draining him, keeping his well of power never full. 

It annoyed him to no end. 

He summoned lunch, he wasn’t primitive enough to hunt. 

He wondered when she would come. If she doesn’t find him… she was just as useless as the rest of them. 

He hates uselessness. Resents it. 

  * -



Hours passed and he covered a dozen miles. Night started to fall already, and you  _ still _ hadn’t found him. Aaravos started to wonder if you were just as pathetic as the rest of the people. 

For all the taunting and intelligence she displayed, she wasn’t quick enough. 

He sighed. He wanted some company during this journey. Someone to challenge him. As much as he hated it, five millennia is a long time without challenges and enticement. Without someone to keep him on his toes wasted away his mind. 

Moon was already high up and shining bright. Half of it uncovered, other half sitting in the darkness, while the other one sits bare on his gaze. 

The constellations were as beautiful as he remembers them. In the few hundred years he was trapped in that — hellish hole — prison he learned to appreciate it. And  _ it _ being nature. Well, he learned to appreciate it  _ more.  _ He certainly will,  _ never again,  _ take this freedom for granted. 

He was lying on his cot. His mind wandered back to you. 

She was quick. Intelligent. Unreasonably mature for her age, yet she had traits that of a child. She was a much better warrior than he anticipated, she sensed his presence far earlier than anyone ever did. But when they did, it was already too late. 

He would be lying when he said he wasn’t impressed in the least. He was in no frame of mind to delusion himself. 

He appreciated power, as raw and imperfect as it is. And you were powerful. If not physical power, — you still  _ are  _ a child, compared to him — then, mental. She was far more intelligent than she let on, she far surpassed anyone of her kind, he imagined. 

But… that is irrelevant now. You didn’t find him. 

“You know. You could’ve at  _ least _ woken me up.”

He blinked at the sound of your voice — the only indication of surprise. Shock surged through him. 

Your voice was playful, as if you teased him. 

He hummed. “I could have.” He agreed. “But, finding me is much more fun.” 

He regarded what you said to him.  _ Come find me.  _ It amused him. 

“I suppose it is.” You sighed and he heard a dull thud behind him. He angled his head so he could see you in his peripheral vision. You were lying on the ground, legs crossed at ankles, hands behind your head and an animal on your chest. 

_ “What  _ is  _ that?” _

You hummed and asked. “Oh. What?  _ This?” _

He shot you a look and sat up to get a clear view. “This is my travel companion.” You shrugged. 

“That is a  _ Shadowpaw.”  _ He pointed out, annoyed by your inadequacy to the fact that you had a  _ Shadowpaw  _ on your chest. 

“Yes, I am aware.” She shrugged. Still petting the wild animal with her fingers. 

“Let me rephrase that.” He sighed. His whole being was being drained by you. He breathed in silently to calm the tidal wave of exasperation threatening to explode. “ _ Why _ do you have a  _ wild  _ Shadowpaw on your chest as your  _ travelling companion?” _

He was certain she didn’t have a Shadowpaw when they started to travel. At your silence he glared at you. You shrugged sheepishly. 

“Well…” she trailed off.

“Yes, little assassin?” He asked sweetly. 

Your sly nature shone through when you quirked your eyebrow. “I thought you would like some company on your journey.” You drawled mischievously. You had a glint in your eye he knew f r too well. His own eyes have the same glint. It meant nothing but trouble. He needed to choose his next words carefully. 

“They do make good company while you travel, don’t they?” 

“They do.” You confirmed and scratched the baby Shadowpaw behind its ears. She shrugged casually, too casually. “Are you familiar with what happens when a Moonshadow elf bonds with a Shadowpaw or a Moonstrider?”

He couldn’t see any outcome of this conversation that would make your eyes twinkle in such a way. 

“I am. The elf and the Shadowpaw bond for life. They start to resemble the personality of their rider. They understand what the elf feels and they feel the same.” Aaravos stated. 

The mammal stretched its tiny body and jumped down from your chest. It walked slowly, sluggishly towards where Aaravos sat, cross legged on his cot. The tiny creature sat down in front of him and yawned disinterestedly. It blinked up at him owlishly and stuck its tongue out mockingly. 

He redirected his gaze towards you to find you sitting closer to his cot than you were before. Smug expression on your face, with hands crossed over your chest. 

The creature skipped back to you and climbed to your shoulder. It settled itself on you and you cooed at it. 

“Is that your way of saying you didn’t like the way I left you to sleep?” 

She shrugged cheekily and the creature yowled indignantly. You muttered an apology to your creature. “Meh, you woke up in a crack of dawn. I don’t like waking up that early. It’s the fact that you believed I  _ couldn’t  _ find you. It’s insulting, really.” 

He understood now. You were indignant because he underestimated you. Understandable. 

He tsked inwardly when he realised it was what you wanted to hear. 

You sighed happily. Probably satisfied how he couldn’t deny that he  _ didn’t  _ underestimate you. He lied back down on his cot and started recalling the constellations. He heard you shuffle and settle down a few meters away from him. 

  * -



Aaravos felt you trailing behind him. Doing something idiotic. 

Most likely. 

A mask of maturity fell. She is still mischievous, intelligent and cunning. But it’s more of a childlike glee. 

He knows intelligence when he sees it. And you are brimming with it. Most of the morning was spent in silence. She disappeared for a few minutes to pick berries for her breakfast. She returned with a smaller bag, filled with moonberries and a stack of Adoraburrs. She let them go when she came to him. 

You offered him moonberries and he  _ politely _ refused. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so. He may be bit out of character here, but everything’s ok.   
> Shadowpaw is the creature Callum and Rayla rode through the Soulfangs. The Moonstrider is the green and tall one, and the shadowpaw is the blue and short one, lion-looking.   
> When Aaravos teleported the little bug pal to Viren he used blood. I fell like that’s some kind of connection needed (aka, blood) to transfer/teleport objects to another location.   
> I think that, like all magic, Aaravos has a limit. I know, I know. But I feel like the magic is a well and when he drains it completely he needs to rest, I got the idea for that from Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas. This is gonna be slowburn. So be ready.   
> I don’t have schedule for posting (probably never will) but I write when inspiration strikes. 
> 
> I feel like Aaravos is a predator; he observes the prey and pounces the moment its distracted/not paying attention/vulnerable.   
> But the reader is like the apex predator amogst the elves. Smart, like hella smart. Genius SOKKA smart, but all the time. She easily picks up on people. Like; personalities, mindsets, assets weaknesses, moral standings. And all that. But she’s still young, much younger than Aaravos and still needs a bit of a push. 
> 
> Give me any criticism. And I mean ANY. How should the body language be displayed, how to make people more in character. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and farewell.   
> ;)


	5. Doomsday is coming, fun is over

You played with the Shadowpaw. What are you gonna name her?  
Sparkles? No… Moonie? No…   
Umbra?   
Yeah.   
You looked at Aaravos. He was tall, extremely tall. Like… tree-tall. You sighed and scratched your head.   
Why is he going North? There’s nothing there. Well, not much life. But he probably doesn’t need life.   
So, let’s see.   
He escaped the mirror he was in…. Viren isn’t particularly subtle.   
Let’s assume the mirror was a curse or a prison. Curses are a more intricate type of magic. It needs to be crafted and thought through. Whoever put him there probably thought it out. You couldn’t ask him directly. He wouldn’t answer. They must be powerful and smart. Powerful enough to trap him there, and smart enough to craft the curse and trick him. Although, how exactly he was put in there is still unknown.  
Alright, he escaped the mirror, that doesn’t mean the curse is lifted. Right? Maybe.   
Curses are different. Harder to understand. They leave a mark, a sign. Something. They always leave something behind. A piece of magic, a rune, a scar. So, let’s assume something was left in him he needed to get out.   
What’s North? Not much.   
Xadian North is cold, snowy, stormy, dangerous and wild.   
But it also has the most undiluted magic, since no one lives there. No one is using it, or harbouring it. Or drawing it from the source. So, the North is the most powerful in terms of magic.   
The curse is probably a powerful one. Strong enough to keep him in there. So he needs power.   
That’s understandable. But, isn’t he extremely powerful? Yes, he is.   
He can’t do it himself? Isn’t he powerful enough?   
Definitely not, since he hasn’t already done it.   
Three parts of the same equation. Power that is north. A piece of curse.   
And Starfall; that’s probably something like the full moon for you. But Starfall is rare and happens a few times in ten decades, but he is old. Old, old.   
You know Starfall is coming soon. The summer’s night. The longest night in the summer… and it’s full moon.   
So, a long night equals more dark. Which means more seeing the moon and stars. And the stars are falling. Which makes it logical that he will be strongest then.   
A piece of curse, Starfall and power in the North. 

“What is your wish?”   
Your head snapped up. “Yes?”   
“What do you want from me? What do you wish for?”   
“A wish? Something I want...” You hummed. Something you want. Material goods are overwhelmingly useless. You could request to know about him, but that would make figuring him out dull. Maybe to know why he’s going North. So many possibilities, yet you do not want either of them. So picky.   
“What if I told you I wish nothing of you?” You raised your eyebrow. “I mean… not everyone you met wanted something from you?” A second of silence. “They always wanted something? Have you ever had a healthy relationship that doesn’t include a bargain?” You gasped.   
He scrunched up his nose. And he didn’t answer, you looked up at him. “No? Never?”   
“I do not see how that relates to what you want.”   
You got him; poor purple sparkly puzzle.   
“I don’t want anything.” Lie. You wanted many things; just not from him.   
“You do want something. But what could a young, smart, strong female such as yourself, want?”  
“Flattering that you think I am smart. Since I know you can’t lie, thank you for the compliments. But, I do want nothing from you.” You shrugged aimlessly. From you. That doesn’t include what you want that isn’t from him.   
Furrowing your brows you looked up.   
Your honed instincts kicked in and you shivered.   
Something was wrong.   
Very wrong. You sniffed the air. Lingering scent of fear filled your nostrils.   
Your connection to the primal sources recoiled and your heart lurched forward in a sudden wave of freezing terror.   
You dug your heels into the ground and halted completely.   
You could register Aaravos stopping too, but that was far away from you. Far behind that abyss of instincts and primal fear in your head.   
Your magic thrashed wildly against your hold. Your astral form was taking over.   
Impending sense of dread settled in your bones and you shifted completely.   
Small part of you was aware of shifting into a defensive position with your weapons drawn, but you couldn’t see or feel anything other than the forest around you.   
A twig snapping was your trigger and you whirled towards the sound.   
Your tensed muscles relaxed when you saw a deer.   
They shouldn’t have. They should not have relaxed.   
It’s eyes were white. Dead. But the doom looming in them was petrifying.   
Run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys. Sorry for the extremely long wait. I’ve been dealing with some stuff. I will try to make the chapters longer and post more frequently. I hope you enjoy the story. This is like a small chapter to get me out of a slump. I swear the chapters will be longer.   
> As any time. Criticism is appreciated and thanks for reading.  
> Farewell, my fantaseers!


	6. Tea party with the dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seventh chapter getting posted tonight!  
> :)

Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run. Run fast. And run far.  
Being the reasonable being that you are you dug your heels into the dirt and warded off your terror.  
Observing the animal; it was by all means dead.  
You listened for a heartbeat other than your own… or Aaravos’, whose is eerily slow.  
No other heartbeat.  
But the smell.  
The scent this thing put out was the rottiest, smelliest, stinkiest, stomach-turning, brain-decaying kind of scent.  
Disgust pooled in your gut. Getting them ready to hurl up your breakfast. 

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Aaravos was genuinely surprised for the first time in decades.  
For all intents and purposes this mammal was dead. Biologically dead.  
He blinked at it. It appeared to not be completely brain-dead. It still had bodily functions.  
It’s eyes conveyed a message. Merciless, dead and unforgiving.  
Run while you can.  
A warning from an animal, whose instincts were to run. That is not a warning to ignore.  
It stayed still. As did you. Your astral form, you were barely visible in the night.  
Aaravos could almost taste your fear.  
Usually something he would enjoy, but it was different.  
This time, it applied to him too.  
Lighting his hand in fire he sent the fireball at the animal.  
A second later a knife with an intricate stone followed, thrown with deadly accuracy.  
The creature fell as its skin sizzled. The knife embedded itself into the mammal’s side. Right into its heart.  
“We need to go.”  
She was already disappearing in the trees. He took one more look at the creature and followed.  
Following closely behind, he watched as she navigated the woods and trees with ease of someone who knew it by muscle memory.  
Her astral form was a whisper on this moonless night. Barely visible.  
The only thing that gave away her presence was magic.  
Her eyes were the thing that fascinated him. The bright, glowing white was what captured his attention.  
Like lightning.  
And he finally stopped when she did. Almost trapping her between him and the tree.  
“What in the spirit’s hell was that?” She whispered violently. “Sorry, that’s not directed at you.” She apologised.  
She still didn’t change back. Now, looking closely, Aaravos could see lines of thickest black, as if they were spiderwebbing from her pupil to the black ring around the iris.  
Her canines were sharper than normal.  
He hummed, finally snapping out of observation.  
“You do know what that is, right? Because if not it’s going to be concerning.”  
Aaravos’s guess is Dark Magic. But… but this.  
Raising the dead. Disturbing the natural balance of death and life.  
Someone inexperienced is experimenting with magic they shouldn’t even begin to touch if that was the result.  
He didn’t answer her when he asked: “How tired are you?”  
“Not tired enough to sleep this one off.”  
An answer he was looking for. “We will teleport at the end of this forest and on the entry of the Unmarked territory. Just far enough that we have cover of trees.”  
Your confirmation was all he needed.  
This will tire him out. Drain him, but when an animal says to run…  
Earthblood elves were known travellers. Their runes revolved around moving swiftly and without hindrance.  
Drawing runes, and feeling them drain him was not a feeling he missed particularly.  
Scooping you up and bringing you to his chest he stepped into the circle.  
If the action phased her, she didn’t show it.  
As the light dimmed, the surroundings became more visible.  
He let go of her and forced himself to remain upright.  
Now they will be a single day’s walk away from his destination.  
“Are you alright?” Her voice seemed so far away. He needed to focus.  
Aaravos was barely aware of his actions as he pulled out a vial. He brought the liquid to his lips and drank. He could feel the potion working. Any time now he will be alright.  
“So, you don’t like teleporting?” He didn’t answer. “Huh. Now that we’re in the North… What's so special about this place? What do you need from here?”  
“That is many questions, little assassin.” He warned.  
She shrugged and took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I can practically smell how much magic you spent.” The action shocked him enough to not be able to answer. “Lie down and rest. I will set up the wards.”  
Damn Avizandum and Zubeia.  
Surprisingly, this didn’t drain him as much as it should have.  
If he were not trapped in that prison he would’ve been able to teleport halfway around the world and still have enough power to teleport back.  
At the rate his body is regenerating magic he should be alright by tomorrow noon.  
Interesting.  
He directed his gaze towards her.  
He could tell her that she doesn’t need to draw runes. He always has wards protecting him.  
But… it was interesting watching new ways of drawing runes.  
Her body emitted a faint glow as she moved around.  
“Drink this.” She was standing right above his head. And he didn’t like it. Usually he was the one dwarfing everyone in his vicinity.  
He sniffed the fluid. It smelled pleasantly and he knew what it was.  
Ginger tea with other ingredients. Good for regenerating magic and numbing the pain.  
He could’ve done it himself.  
“So… what was that thing back there?”  
He sipped his tea. “Dark Magic works in many ways.”  
“So… a failed attempt at raising the dead?”  
Such nonchalance. It would almost be concerning.  
“Essentially, yes.”  
“Could that be an experiment? Or was someone working a long time on it?”  
Aaravos’ guess was as good as anyone’s. Someone is trying to raise the dead.  
Is there any particular goal, or have they done it for the joy of experimentation?  
“No one raises dead if they don’t have someone to bring back to life, y’know.” She shrugged. “Or someone is a psychopath.”  
Aaravos didn’t answer. Tomorrow, tomorrow he will deal with it.  
The drowsiness from magic straining was taking over.  
“Go to sleep, I’ll keep watch.”  
He shouldn’t have passed out this quickly


	7. Memories of the dead

At some point in your life you might’ve felt bad for drugging someone. 

Huh, morals. Haven’t seen those in a very long time.

He should sleep for the next few hours. That gives you enough time to gather some information about everything and everyone in the vicinity of the undead corpse. 

If it stayed there. You hadn’t seen it fall. Or die. 

Die again? Die die? How do you say when someone who is dead dies again? 

Back on track. 

It’s cold. You sneezed. 

The wards you put up should be able to protect him until you come back. 

You sniffed. Nothing smells. No scents. Except snow and cold. 

What did the Earthblood Elves teach you? 

Feel, don’t look. Observe, don’t see. 

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply. 

In.

Out.

Your rose your arms at the height of your shoulders. 

In.

Out.

You spread your legs to stay grounded, ready to move the Earth. 

In.

Out. 

You opened your palm towards the sky. 

In. 

The same second a small stone fell into your hand. 

Out. 

You relaxed. Raava is close. 

You looked into your palm, a small glittering stone rested there. 

You crushed the stone between your fingers and disarray of colours shot out. Rearranging into images. 

Memories. 

You followed the path of the young deer. 

Watching it run through the forest. 

Getting separated from its herd. 

Being shot by an arrow. Killing it instantly. 

The hunters came to collect their prey. Not noticing the cloaked figure waiting for them. Their throats were slashed. Blood spurting forward. 

The figure let the men fall, as they knelt by the dead deer. 

The pictures blurred. Darkening. 

The next moment you were able to see, the deer was standing, the hunters’ bodies were gone and the figure was gone. Smiling face drawn in dirt. 

Someone with Sight knew you were watching. Watching from the future. They are good. Whoever they might be. 

You didn’t get a good look at the ritual though. 

Raising the dead. Even Aaravos seemed disturbed by that. 

Sure, it’s complete wackadoo and bat shit crazy. But, fuck. It could be useful. Wars with no casualties. Curing sickness. 

You sat down on the grass. Looking at the sky. Sky. Moon. Stars.

Memories. Memories. 

You toyed with the remaining lint in your hand. It still sparkled. But not as much. You chucked the pieces away from you. 

You need to sharpen—

You yelped as a strong hand gripped your throat. Cutting off the air supply. 

In surprise you flinched and gasped. 

“Why did you drug me?” His voice was so close to your ear. You relaxed a bit, although he was still choking you. 

You didn’t answer, couldn’t. “Now, little assassin, you underestimated me. You need to be more careful.” He still had a hand on your throat, although relaxed. 

Only now have you noticed the one around your waist. He was fast. Really spirit-damned fast. 

You could smell the lingering scent of ginger and potions on him. 

The one on your throat flexed. “So vulnerable,” he whispered. “You relaxed considerably when you realised who I was. I wonder, do you feel safe with me?” 

You hummed noncommittally. “Answer me.” His voice dropped an octave. 

“I never feel safe.” You pressed the dagger on the inside of his thigh. You dipped your voice into a sultry purr. “But… having a knife pressed to someone’s femoral artery does make it safer, doesn’t it?” 

You could feel his chest vibrate with the chuckle. 

“Let’s go.” He said and lifted you by the neck. You let out an undignified noise as he dropped you back on your feet. 

You summoned Umbra. So, beautiful, these creatures. 

You dropped the tiny kitten-sized Shadowpaw on your palm. 

You shifted uncomfortably in place. You skipped over to him. Sticking to his side. 

You felt uncomfortable. The creepy smiley face and the undead deer

“I revisited some memories of the deer.” You whispered. “I can show you?” 

He turned towards you.

“Show me.” 

You didn’t waste time. Digging out a marble from your suit you crushed it in your palm and sprinkled the air around you with the rock-dust. 

It showed the exact same memories you saw minutes before. 

“Where do you think the dead hunters went? With them or?”

Aaravos didn’t answer. 

You sent out your informants to gather information, but this. 

The person, Hookie, definitely knew you were there. That you were watching. They deliberately showed you what they can do. 

Does that mean you will be able to find them? No one knows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorty chapter! I’ll try to post more frequently.   
> Criticism is always appreciated
> 
> Farewell fellow fantaseers!   
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Knowledge, library and wintery feels

Aaravos had to admit that she had formidable foresight. 

Even then, there is too much unknown. 

His best bet is to go where he was headed before. 

Firstly to restore his power. 

Secondly to get more information about raising dead. 

Thirdly… well… 

He smiled inwardly. 

“Let’s go. We will be at our destination in a day.” 

“So, where are we going?” 

You’ll find out soon enough, might as well tell you now. “A Sanctuary for Startouch elves.” 

“Yeah. I’ve been wondering. Are there any other Startouch elves?” 

Aaravos smirked at you. “Bored of my company yet?”

“Not in the least. Maybe spice things up a bit.” She shrugged and he blinked. 

Such boldness. People were a lot more reserved a few centuries ago. 

He likes it better this way. 

Or maybe that’s just her. Either way, he likes this shamelessness. Makes it more bearable to be next to someone who can take reality and not be offended when his tongue sharpens. 

“Y’know, this far North is boring. Everything’s crispy cold.” In emphasis she crunched a leaf between her index and thumb. 

Aaravos breathed in silently. 

They needed to hurry. He needs to replenish his magic as fast as possible. And he needs to gather as much information as he can. 

The Sanctuary they’re going to is a secret meeting place for all Startouch elves. 

The Temple for magic rituals, the Library for gathering knowledge, the Dungeons for enemies, the Garden for training and the Forest for resources. 

The Northern Sanctuary. There are other five, but this one is different.

More equipped and bigger, and also less crowded. So he could get there unidentified. No one in their right mind would go North in winter. 

“Storm is coming.” Her head was turned up and looking at the cloudy sky. 

He sniffed too. If the rapidly rising levels of sky arcanum magic wasn a good enough answer, the distant clash of thunder was indication enough. 

They needed to hurry. The storms in the North are brutal and deadly, and without his usual power there would be no telling what happens. 

He heard her make a noise. “What?” He turned around. She was rubbing her nose with her sleeve. 

“I sneezed.” Her eyes were wide and the sleeve covering the lower half of her face. “Bless you is the correct answer.” 

He furrowed his brow. “Bless you. Let’s go.” 

**______________**

  
  


Six hours and ten breaks later the Sanctuary is in sight. They should get there before the storm hits. 

**______________**

  
  


The doors were just like he remembered them. Enchanted, strong mahogany doors. 

How he had missed them in his prison. 

The familiar smell of Asafoetida filled his nose. Someone did a great job at protecting this Sanctuary. 

He cut open his palm. “Give me your blood.” He handed her the knife. 

“Why?” 

“If you want to stay out in this weather, don’t.” 

“So this is a Blood-Gate. I’ve never seen one.” She tapped the doors and slit open her palm. 

He dipped his fingers in her blood. It was oddly purplish. Strange. 

Aaravos drew the delicate lines of Blood runes in the only patch of undecorated wood. 

The runes glowed brightly and the doors hissed as they opened. 

“Woah.” He heard her say. 

Finally here. 

  
  


**______________**

  
  
  


This is one of the most beautiful architectures you’ve  _ ever  _ seen. 

The grandeur. The classiness. 

Damn. This was built by people with fucking taste. 

The blue torches and lanterns. And glass. And crystals. And plants of all kinds. And sapphires. And the soft white carpet that doesn’t stain. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ This is style, bitch. 

Not those crunchy-looking, crusty-looking castles of dirt. 

And the purplish chandelier! 

Ah! This is the dream. And aesthetic. 

“Is this how all the Sanctuaries look like?” 

“No.” 

You gotta find those Sanctuaries. 

You shrugged at the lack of answer. 

It seems like a sacrilege to walk in here in these dirty clothes. But you’ve never been too religious. 

Those bastards in hoods and cloaks and masks creeped you out. 

“Do they look similar?”

“Some do.” 

“Where are they?” 

He smirked. Welp. You squinted, he’s got sharp canines. Unusually sharp. 

“So, is there anything interesting here? Libraries or some long forgotten ancient knowledge?” 

He gave you a sideways look. “There is much more knowledge stored in Sanctuaries than anywhere else in the world.” 

You looked down. Huh. Now that you think about it, you had different clothes. 

The ones you had were for stealth and sneaking. 

The ones you’re wearing now. Too white. Too light. 

The remnants of your training kicked in. 

“So where’d you store these clothes?”

“It is a secret, little assassin. You can review the library. We’re going there anyways.” He shrugged. 

Library. Books. More knowledge. Yes. Yes, this is what you came for. 

You trailed behind him. You wiggled your hips, it’s a bit tight, but it’s okay. 

At least he didn’t put you in a corset. You wore it once and you fell unconscious. Runaan, the bastard, always held onto that. And Rayla too, she never forgot that. 

But you don't forget either. 

  
  


**______________**

  
  


The doors were big. Like, three Aaravos-tall people. 

The doors swung open with flourish. Like a peacock from mortal lands. 

The walls were meters and meters high up. And the books on every inch of every wall, from the floor upwards to the ceiling. 

Heaven on Earth. 

You dragged your fingers along the spines of books. Incredibly dusty. 

The smell of parchment and crackling fire and mold. And that certain tangy old smell that only accompanied books was utterly calming. 

You opened a book on dragons. 

It listed types of scales and durability and anything and everything you wanted to know about dragons. 

Dragons kept the knowledge about their physical abilities and their weaknesses and strengths heavily guarded secrets. 

Your brain got drunk on knowledge. 

Delirious and happy. Finally. 

A wind through your head and you fell unconscious. 

  
  
  



End file.
